


what is he doing here?

by memesf0r0ne



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: AGAIN?, Bar, ELA might make me write more, Freedom, Gen, How Do I Tag, Kissing, M/M, Multi, One Shot, Oops, anyways you don't want to hear about me, as in, don't you, freedom bar, good job ao3, how does aNyoNe tag honestly, i don't know if i like or hate the fact that the first tag with phone in it is 'phone sex', i write my tags to make them proud, in soho england, ineffable husbands, no beta we saunter vaguely downwards like man-shaped entities, phone, school is three days in and i can't wait for the end, who knows - Freeform, will ao3 tag of the day notice me ever, you want the tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 20:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20533916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memesf0r0ne/pseuds/memesf0r0ne
Summary: If you were a passerby who was seeing, not hearing, it would make sense to see them.





	what is he doing here?

If you were a passerby who was seeing, not hearing, it would make sense to see them.

Two man-shaped creatures that one would (wrongly) assume to be male humans were standing in a bar in Soho. It was named  _ Freedom _ , and that was exactly what these two had sought out after postponing the Apocalypse. They weren’t dancing, but they found their own way of enjoying themselves.

That is, until one of them, the shorter one (Aziraphale, who looked like he was someone’s kind grandfather but slightly younger than presumed), revealed his new device.

“Angel, if you don’t hand over your phone, I’m going to have to take it from you,” Crowley threatened, moving in on Aziraphale like a snake to a small rodent.

“You can’t miracle it from me, I can get it back,” Aziraphale teased, shifting himself so his elbows rested on the counter.

Crowley’s lips fell apart. “Are you...tempting me?”

A man sitting on a barstool looked over at them, and his eyes crinkled into a smile. He looked away, in the way people do when they  _ know _ .

“Am I?”

In a span of a few seconds, Crowley was running his hands up and down Aziraphale’s vest. “Where’s that bloody phone?”

The angel was laughing gleefully, trying to speak. “Crowley, I― why do you need it?”

Crowley’s search moved to lower pockets. “Why won’t you give it to me? What have you got on it, some sort of hardcore pornography?”

“Oh, my dear, please―” Aziraphale interrupted himself by a fit of giggles. “Remember who you’re talking to!”

“Give it to me! Where is it?!” His hand found a solid thing in Aziraphale’s pants pocket. “Aha!” He withdrew it and had to search a bit for the power button― it was on the back, instead of the sides. Aziraphale was still clearly a bit behind, but that was not important now. He turned it on, and his jaw fell.

“A-ang―”

The lockscreen was an image of Crowley, with emoji hearts and an aubergine.

“Do you like it? I asked Anathema for help, you know how Newt is with technology, and the Them wouldn’t stop teasing me― oh, wait,” he said, realizing he should probably be embarrassed.

Crowley’s mouth was still slack, and his eyes were most likely not blinking, as he sometimes forgot to do so. That was one reason he wore sunglasses. Aziraphale realized he had to do something, and fast.

“Ah!”

Gabriel was scouring the Earth for Aziraphale. He realized that it wasn’t an order directly from God, so he didn’t have much help, but it was more of an assumption. He  _ assumed  _ that God was  _ implying _ that She was, if not inclined to, at least not  _ opposed _ to the mission. And in a moment like this, it was enough for Gabriel.

He had visited Aziraphale last (minus the Armageddidn’t) in Soho, so that was where he went. The co-perpetrator of A Whole Lot of Trouble wasn’t in his bookstore, so Gabriel kept walking. He tried to act normal around the humans, and believed he had done quite a good job. (He was wrong. Normal human beings don’t walk around greeting others with things like, “Hello, fellow humans, has your non-apocalyptic freedom been splendid? Seen a dumb angel that looks like your kind? Well, not  _ your _ kind, but in general― oop, my kind. Human. Too. You know, right―”) Finally, he found a bar that looked rather queer, but he sensed a mixed presence of nonhumans, and went in, looking severely out of place and uncomfortable.

A man with curly hair raised an eyebrow. “Hey there,” he slurred, “What’re you doing here?”

“Oh, not much,” Gabriel said, shooting him a fake grin. The man glowered, skirting around him to talk to some real people.

In a corner, he saw that demon Crowley, standing in shock, staring straight at―

“Ah! Aziraphale!” he called, but clearly, the angel dismissed the exclamation as noise in the bar. Gabriel watched in horror as Aziraphale went closer and kissed Crowley.

He had to get the hell out of here. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Aziraphale notice him. The angel gave him a specific finger as a greeting behind Crowley's back.


End file.
